The Sentinel's Failure at Midnight
by quel-dommage
Summary: ONESHOT.  Harry Potter, in honor of himself defeating Voldemort a year ago, decides to throw a party, and for some reason invites Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy.  A bet ensues, in which Malfoy must get Ginny to kiss him before midnight.
1. The Bet

Well well well.

I seem to be on a Draco and ginny roll recently.

So here's a oneshot that i wrote (partially) at midnight. it might not make total sense.

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It was a summer party, one of the which only occurred every July 21; the anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort. Potter had revived his old family estate just in time for the occasion, held in his honor, of course, and had made sure that his gardens were pristine and perfect for his guests. For it was Potter who had defeated Voldemort, and therefore Potter who was the Golden Boy. As usual.

So Malfoy couldn't decide how he had managed to be invited, or why he had even bothered to show. It wasn't as if he needed to remember how "gloriously" and "courageously" Potter had defeated the Dark Lord. Blaise Zabini, as mocking and frivolous as ever, laughed at Draco's expense as the blond attempted to slip into the party without being noticed, and only succeeded in nearly falling over Neville Longbottom.

"It's hard to hide your shining beacon of hair, mate. Even in such an… array, of colours."

"More of an explosion," Malfoy muttered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief as Looney Lovegood traipsed past in a most fluorescent shade of orange.

"Still the bachelor, I see," Blaise remarked casually, mussing his dark, curly hair with a yawn.

"So are you," Draco retorted, not sure why he was being so defensive. He prided himself in his bachelorhood, his reputation never marred by a petty girl chained to his ankle like a house elf.

"Oh, but I've already found my prey for the night…" Zabini said, smirking and staring openly over Malfoy's shoulder. The blond leaned against a tree behind him, turning nonchalantly to look over his shoulder.

It was Weasley, clad in a form-fitting pale green gown, that somehow managed to look light and loose. She seemed to be having a lovely chat with Granger, whose back was thankfully turned. Her hair had darkened (Weasley's, not Granger's) and caressed her pale, bare shoulders before cascading down her back. Frankly, she was bloody gorgeous, a fact that Malfoy had been aware of previously, but still managed to daze him.

Blaise chuckled, making Malfoy's head snap around painfully to glare at the gloating Slytherin.

"I knew it, old chap. I could tell, after that drunken charade…"

"Shove it, you prat. Anyway, good luck with her. I bet you couldn't even get a good snog out of that one." A familiar, mischevious glimmer crept into Zabini's eyes, and the blond Slytherin was all-too-familiar with what it meant.

"A bet, eh?"

"I didn't mean it _literally_, you thick…"

"Scared? A Malfoy?" Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Zabini just laughed, oblivious.

"Name your terms," Malfoy hissed, folding his arms across his chest. He was never scared, and he never lost, so there wasn't any reason to be afraid, anyway.

"Alright," he said, growing as serious as he could muster under the circumstances. "You have to snog her. By…say, midnight? No. **She **has to snog **you**. By midnight." Malfoy scoffed. What woman wouldn't want to snog him?

"And if she doesn't?" He said with a hint of incredulity, as if it would never happen. He _was_ Draco Malfoy, after all.

"Then you get to watch me woo your favorite Weasley. For the rest of the night. Or however long it takes me to get her alone…" Malfoy smirked self-confidently, his gaze wandering to Potter, who was eying him suspiciously.

"If she does?"

"I wont touch her." Zabini raised a brow, looking at his wristwatch.

"It's 11:31, by the way."

"Zabini!" But Malfoy's long tirade was cut off by Potter, coming over to investigate.

"You weren't just staring at Ginny, were you, Malfoy?"

"Sorry, who?" he drawled, still leaning casually against the tree. Zabini smirked, fixing Potter with a condescending stare.

"I think he means the Weaselette over there."

"What are you two plotting? I knew inviting you was a bad idea," Potter finished, muttering, seeming slightly angry he had even thought of inviting his two least favorite people.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Potter. We wont crash your party…" _Yet_, Malfoy added mentally, resisting the urge to turn around and watch Ginny.

"Well, if I see either of you so much as **LOOK** at her, you'll have hell to pay." Potter then stalked off to Ginny's side, probably to stand as sentinel.

_This will be an interesting night_, Malfoy decided.

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Ginny, for once, was enjoying a bit of freedom from Harry, smoothing her light, pale green dress nervously. It had taken ages to make, with all of the elegant gathers and layer upon layer of twisted satin ribbon. It was her masterpiece, and she tried hard to convince herself she wasn't trying to impress anyone.

Yet, when she saw Draco Malfoy slip next to his fellow Slytherin, Blaise Zabini, her heart felt uncomfortably like a dizzy butterfly. She quickly turned her gaze to Hermione, who had been talking, without tire, of her wedding in a month.

"…oh, and Harry is being so generous… He's buying nearly everything, I feel so guilty.. But it's no hidden fact that Ron and I don't have much money right now…" Ginny nodded with a small smile, trying to seem like she was paying attention. Hermione was flushed and excited, and looked every bit the happy bride-to-be that she was.

Ginny's gaze quickly wandered, predictably, over to Malfoy, who was in an angry discussion with Harry. Harry kept looking over at Ginny, as if she was going to disappear any moment, and seemed to be talking about her to Malfoy and Zabini.

Hermione, finally realizing her audience was distracted, gave Harry a piercing look as he stood next to Ginny, the followed the redhead's gaze to Malfoy.

"Harry, what's going on?" She said angrily, regarding his protective distance to Ginny with a wry glare.

"Just making sure that the party runs smoothly," he muttered, still glaring at a bemused Malfoy. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry; he still acted like her boyfriend, although they had broken up long before the War.

"You did invite them, Harry," Ginny mused, although she knew he wouldn't be pleased at the reminder.

"And I'm already regretting it." He said angrily, his green eyes flashing. She, already sick of Harry's close proximity, disappeared into the throng of dancers, weaving through them and out to a lonely bench, which she sat on with a huff.

"Fancy seeing you here, Weasley," someone drawled, sending a (hopefully not visible) chill up her spine.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She said with a sigh, not entirely prepared to argue with him.

"Just wanted to say hello," he murmured, sitting next to her.

"Well, why don't you say it, then leave?" She knew there was a game behind it. There always was. She remembered, with partial anger, when he had last snogged her. He was completely drunk, or seemed like it, barely able to stand, let alone walk. He had still managed, she remembered with a grin, to look extremely haughty, and somehow even sexier with his hair disheveled and his normally clear eyes clouded over.

She had been on her way back to her dormitory, but stopped, slightly amused, as Malfoy stumbled towards her in a crooked line. Then, he had practically fallen on her, trapping her against the wall and attacking her mouth. By the way he had snogged her, she would have guessed he was completely sober, running the tip of his tongue over her lips; she had involuntarily moaned at that particular part.

Then she had heard someone shout and he had stumbled backwards, startled. It was Harry, barreling towards them and looking like an angry bear. Malfoy had given Ginny one long, very sober, last look, then had simply melted into the shadows behind him. Harry, of course, had been furious. She had reason to believe he still was.

Ginny blinked back the memory, the proximity of Malfoy requiring her full attention. He was watching her curiously, one eyebrow arched articulately and his arms were draped along the top of the bench.

"What?" She wasn't about to tell him why she had gone silent…

"Did you just _moan_, Weasley?" Ginny froze, horrified at the thought that she had let that slip.

"I have no idea what you're…" She stood up, looking for an escape, any escape.

"What were you thinking about?" He said, betraying his cool and collected expression by frowning softly.

"N..nothing. I mean, why would I be thinking about when you sno…" _OH MERLIN. Ginevra Weasley! What did you just __**almost**__ say?!_ Malfoy seemed dumbstruck; he stared incredulously at Ginny, and for once in his life, was at a loss for words. She spin around, nearly running into Blaise Zabini, who was equally as surprised as Malfoy. She rushed past them, knowing better than to slow down and turn her head as someone shouted her name.

She just needed to compose herself, grab ahold of her senses before she lost them completely. It was bad enough she had this unruly attraction to her family's arch-enemy, and now she was admitting that she still thought about their snog. She didn't want to imagine the trouble both Harry and Ron would give her about this.

Ginny slipped inside of the dark Potter Manor, on the verge of tears but steeling herself against them. It was nothing to cry about, she reassured herself, just a little crush that would soon fade away. She leaned against a doorway, catching her breath, closing her eyes momentarily. She turned automatically to a hand on her arm, her eyes flying open and meeting Malfoy's icy gray ones. Her mind slowed, nearly to a stop, incoherent thoughts sluggishly bouncing against each other in confusion.

He lowered his face to hers, brushing his lips against hers slowly, shocking her senses to life. She opened her mouth, automatically, it seemed, in compliance to Malfoy's small pressures on her lips. His fingers trailed into her hair, slowly circling the small of her back. Her palms rested on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating as rapidly as hers. Then he broke off, a tiny grin on his face.

"Is that what you were thinking about, Weasley?" Her eyes narrowed and she sniffed, trying to push him away.

"Don't flatter yourself." His wicked smirk grew, and Ginny noticed his hair was slightly disheveled, exactly, as she now realized, that she liked it.

"If you say so…" Then he disappeared back into the night. After only a moment's hesitation, she followed, just as a clock somewhere started to strike midnight. She craned her head to see a flash of platinum blond in the crowd, and finally spotted him, wending his ways towards Blaise Zabini.

"Wait! Malfoy!" she shouted, hurtling into the crowd after him. She continued yelling until he stopped and turned around, his brow raised expectantly.

When she reached him, she immediately knotted her fingers into his blond hair, yanking his head down to hers. Somewhere, the clock struck twelve, and Ginny mashed her lips against Malfoy's, to the obvious horror of the crowd around them. She heard someone give an inhuman bellow, presumably Ron or Harry, and her mouth twisted into a grin against Malfoy's.

_Serves them right._

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_so dear readers. _

_i'm starting to write another D/G story._

_but i dont have time to type up or post the first chapter today._

_maybe tomorrow._

_desole!_


	2. NOTICE!

Two words.

I'M BACK.

I know, i've just had the longest hiatus ever seen on fanfiction.

And this is abusive to you, seeing as i don't really have any work at the moment, just a notice.

But i wanted you to know that new chapters are to come.. after i remember where i was going with the plots, of course.

Except for covert. Sorry, children, but that is well done with.

Send me loveee

(and best wishes)

quel.


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